Why so much craze
For false, fleeting praise?
Oh! The glaze of the days
At nights never stays!
What is there in the flesh?
How frenetic to embrace!
A lovely hellish place
That swindles by dress.
Why dost thou crave
In the bank pelf save?
Wilt catch away the Knave
While thou art in grave.
Why a queue for power,
Strife, for muggy mire?
Being obscene, blunt and bare
Wilt thou descend from the stair.
Why thou dost nurture ire
Indulge in haze, mirage and care?
Yea’ nobody will share
What thou sowest in the layer.
Why is then temptation
Enmeshed by delusion?
Freedom from illusion
Wilt bring thee blithe salvation.
